The Unloved Kids
by RosalynGlass
Summary: "If history is dead and gone, then how did we get here?" Caroline hadn't meant to care, but some things you just can't run from. In trying to bring him back Klaus finds a ghost from Kol's past. His own always and forever. Set after 4x12


It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.'

I do not agree.

* * *

Klaus had given up his attempt to break the barrier, the witch had gotten stronger and so had her spells. Which meant he was stuck, in the Gilbert's living room, for three days. It would have been bearable if not for his failed hybrid smug smile.

Did the boy honestly think he had won?

The cure would burn, as would Tyler as soon as he got out of this bloody house.

The back door opened, and a certain blonde vampire entered. Maybe the next few days wouldn't have to be completely miserable.

When Caroline caught sight of him he flashed a smirk. "Hello, love."

She paused, then simply shook her head and turned her attention to Tyler. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled at Klaus. "Gloating."

An honest answer, bully for him. Caroline rolled her eyes, and turned towards him, stopping short when she saw the body. Kol's body.

Klaus swallowed hard.

The annoyed look slipped from Caroline's face. She looked ready to say something, then she walked away. He heard the stairs creak as she went upstairs and opened a door. A moment later she returned with a sheet, covering the horrifically burned corpse that just a few hours before had been his brother. His annoying, arrogant, impulsive, little brother. The brother he should have protected. Maybe if he had arrived a few minutes earlier he could have.

Silence filled the house. After a while Caroline cleared her throat, drawing his attention away from the form on the floor. "I'm sorry, about Kol."

Rage poured over him. Of all the things she had done, every time she had played little blonde distraction, every snide comment, this was the unforgivable act. "Did you know?" Klaus seethed.

Caroline's brow pinched. "Klaus—"

Flashing to the barrier, he watched her flinch back a step. "Did you know what they planned to do?" his voice was quiet but there was no missing the venom in it.

Her expression shifted suddenly, looking every bit enraged as he felt. "No! Of course I didn't know they were planning mass murder. If I had I would have stopped them!"

Tyler's eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, but he didn't speak.

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Klaus said. "Why would you care about Kol's life?"

"I don't," she shrugged. "But that doesn't give me the right to _kill him_. We don't get to decide who lives and dies. Because once we start doing that..." the anger in her eyes was replaced by a mix of disgust and sympathy. "Once we start doing that we're just as bad as you."

"You're already like me," he spat.

"No, actually, I'm not," Caroline laughed loudly, and without humor. "You know why? Because I regret the bad things I've done. You don't."

"If you already presume I'm heartless, why do you feel the need to argue your point?"

"Because, Klaus, some absurd, totally insane, part of me still wants to believe your worth saving." She shook her head, looking exhausted, defeated. "My mistake."

There it was. Inevitably, she had realized he was beyond redemption. It would've hurt much worse if she had said it the day before, but the pain of her anger was a paper cut compared to the knife twisting in his heart every time he looked at his brothers body. "Yes, it is."

She opened her mouth to speak, but didn't make a sound. Klaus narrowed his eyes when he realized she wasn't moving, not even breathing. A glance towards Tyler showed he was frozen as well.

Witches. The door opened with a creak. Slow, confident footsteps sounded, and soon a figure appeared. A dark hood hid the woman's face in shadows. She drifted passed Caroline, and knelt beside Kol, carefully pulling the sheet back from his face.

A strangled shriek came from her, pale hands shaking as they hovered over his mutilated face. Putting the sheet back in place, she stood.

"Who are you?" he snapped. The last thing he needed was to deal with one of Kol's witches.

She didn't answer. Instead she reached up, and pushed back her hood. Straw colored hair was cropped at her jaw, green eyes shimmered with what seemed to be grief.

"I don't enjoy repeating myself, love, you should answer the question."

"I'm surprised you can't feel it, Niklaus," she said. "Wolves are called to their own blood."

"Spit it out or shut up," Klaus growled.

She smiled at his anger. Like he was a child having a tantrum rather than a murderous hybrid. "You wouldn't know me. I was taken before your birth," she took a few steps closer, but didn't pass the barrier. "I'm Freya Mikaelson. The first born child of Esther and Mikael. Your sister."

"Freya died when she was a child." This woman expected him to believe she was the daughter Esther lost? Not a day older than thirty, and one of the living, she couldn't be Freya.

"Yes, that's what our mother told father," she sighed. "It wasn't the only lie she ever told." Her gaze fell back to the shrouded body. "But now is not the time to dwell on ancient history. We can still save him." Green eyes snapped back to his. "Will you not help our brother?"

Locking away any trace of hope that might be lingering, he spoke evenly. "My brother is dead. You're delusional."

Rage glittered in her eyes. "If you have no faith, I'll give you proof." Something thin and silvery fell from his sleeve. Before he could question her, the blade was slashing down her other wrist. Thrusting her arm through the barrier, droplets of crimson spilling across the floor. "Drink, brother, and you will see the truth."

Hunger outweighed wariness, and he lunged forward, sinking his fangs into her bloodied wrist. As soon as the coppery liquid hit his tongue the world tilted under his feet. Suddenly he wasn't trapped in a house in Mystic Falls, he was in a small village, thick layers of snow blanketed everything in sight.

Two woman stood a few yards away from him. As opposite as night and day. One was raven-haired with dark, unforgiving eyes. The other was fair, with long blonde hair plaited back from her face, two children clinging to her skirt.

The fair woman looked to the dark one with agony filled eyes. "Please, do not do this!" she begged, and at the sound of her voice Klaus realized she was his mother. Younger, more innocent, but she was Esther.

"You wanted a family!" The other woman shouted. "Fate said otherwise, and so you came to me. And, for a price, I granted your wish." She grabbed the little girl's arm, wrenching her away from his mother. "Now I must collect."

Rage and desperation flooded her voice, but it lacked the strength she normally had when she spoke. "When Mikael returns from his journey, I swear—"

"You will tell him Freya grew ill and died," she ordered, it was the tone his mother used when he was young to let him know there would be no argument.

Tears spilled from her lashes. "No, Dahlia!" she cried miserably.

Dahlia continued, uncaring of the other woman's suffering. "You were forced to burn her body to stop the spread of plague."

"Sister, please, I cannot give up my child!" Sister? Once he was looking for it he saw the family resemblance, not with Esther, but Kol and Elijah.

"You've already offered me more than just this one child!" Dahlia shouted, looking exasperated, almost pained, at her sister's refusal. "Our bargain was for this first-born, and every first-born of each generation that is to come, for as long as your line shall last."

Esther's face darkened with fury. "If you do this, if you take my daughter, I swear to you, I will return to the black arts. I will grow in power as a witch, and I will _make you pay_!" she roared. There was a glimpse of the vicious woman who had raised him. This young woman desperate to protect her children would someday condemn them all to a miserable existence, only to try to kill them for being the monsters she made.

He blinked, and just like that he was no longer in the past, he stood in the Gilbert's living room. The green eyed witch seemed far away, still lost in memories. "Do you see, Niklaus?"

"I don't know what I saw," he took a step back. "How would you help him?"

Freya seemed resigned to his doubt. "Do you remember the years in New Orleans when Kol didn't speak to you?"

"Yes, he was still angry about that witch," he waves his hand in a _hurry up_ gesture.

"It wasn't just his grief over Cassandra that kept him away, he was protecting someone. Kol feared if you found out about Aaron you would either kill him or take him." Freya reached up and touched the medallion around her neck. "The thought of losing his son kept him from returning to you and the others."

"I'll stop you there," Klaus said. Of course she didn't know what she was talking about. What had he been thinking? She couldn't save Kol.

"Not his blood," Freya snapped. "Aaron was Cassandra's grandson. Powerful, but unfocused. His mother had been consumed by a dark form of magic, so Kol took him. He protected him, loved him as his own son."

"Get to the part where this will bring my brother back from the dead," he snapped.

"Aaron still lives. After you daggered our brother, I put him to sleep, meaning to wake him when Kol was free again." She looked sadly towards the floor. "Now, we have to find him. He'd do anything for Kol."

"This witch is powerful enough to save him?"

"Yes," Freya said assuredly.

Klaus didn't trust her, he wasn't even convinced their was an Aaron. He looked down at his brother's body. "Where would we find him?"

"Last I checked he was still in New Orleans." She held her palm out, the air shimmered oddly, then there was a slight _pop_ like pressure releasing. "Let's go. We need to get Rebekah before we leave."

* * *

Aaron sat alone at a table in the back of the crowded bar. After two months of living in the twenty-first century he had found very few places he enjoyed being. People were too loud, and so were phones, he thought irritably as a loud chiming came from the table next to his.

Rousseau was a good place to fade into the background, enough supernaturals hung around the bar that nobody questioned his presence. It had its down sides too, Marcel spent plenty of time there and Aaron didn't want to run into him, he had heard what the vampire did to powerful witches.

It wouldn't matter in a few days, Aaron was leaving New Orleans. According to his last locator spell his father was in a town called Mystic Falls, only nine hours away. Learning to drive had been difficult, it wasn't as if someone who had officially died over two hundred years ago could walk into the DMV and get a permit, but he had managed, buying an old car with the money he had made from selling a protection spell and practicing on back roads.

Living in his home wasn't an option, it had fallen apart during his sleep, which resulted in him selling some of the few dark objects he had to pay for an apartment.

New Orleans had changed, the world had changed, but _he_ would be the same. Aaron just had to find him.

Lost in his thoughts Aaron didn't notice the boy until he dropped into the chair across from him. His gaze snapped up from the table and met steel blue eyes.

"You look like you could use a drink," he said with a brogue that could've been Scottish, and offered him one of the bottles he held.

Aaron took it, not many places would serve minors. Or people without IDs, he needed to get a fake one, however one went about doing that.

"I'm Kaleb," blue eyes said, his mouth quirking into a half smirk. He lounged in the chair, completely at ease as if they had known each other for years. Even sitting it was obvious Kaleb was taller than him.

"Aaron," he replied warily.

"Aaron," Kaleb drawled, taking a swig of beer. "How come I've never seen you around? New to town?"

 _The best lies are always partially truth._ "Not exactly," he said, "I've just been away a long time."

"Uh-huh," he said, sounding amused, like he knew Aaron was lying. "Will you be sticking around a while?"

"No," he sat back in his chair, "I'm leaving tonight."

Kaleb raised a brow. "Tonight? Now that's a shame."

Aaron shrugged. "I'm looking for someone." Why was he telling him that?

A smile spread slowly across his face. "Aren't we all?"

* * *

Rebekah tossed her bag on one of the chairs in the Salvatore's den, sitting beside it. The fire flickered weakly in the hearth, giving little warmth or light.

In the morning they would leave for the island and it would all be worth it. Leaving her brothers in a time of grief, ignoring Kol's warnings, to be human was worth it.

"Isn't this interesting?" Rebekah froze at Klaus's voice. Bonnie had sworn the spell would hold for days. They should have had _days_. "I expected to find my sister grieving, and instead she's taking a holiday with our brother's murderers."

She stood, turning to face him. He hadn't been this furious with her in centuries. "Well?" She spread her arms widely, letting them fall back to her sides. "What are you going to do? You could dagger me, but how long will it really be before you can't stand being alone and wake me?"

The silence was disconcerting. Why was he not yelling? "I don't have time for this," he said, and she realized he didn't sound upset, not even tired. In fact, he seemed... determined. "If I told you there was a way to bring Kol back would you abandon this ridiculous crusade of yours?"

Kol could be alive again. They could save him... "No," she said softly. "No, I won't." He looked ready to argue, she continued before he could. "I won't, Nik! I've spent my life trying to make you happy. But now I need to be happy." Tears stung her eyes as she spoke. She needed to be happy, for once.

A shrill ring came from a phone on the table. The doppelganger quickly answered it. "Care?"

Rebekah listened as the cheerleader tried to warn them her brother was free. Elena looked at Klaus. "I know." She hung up, shrinking back towards Damon.

In a blur Klaus was across the room, a hand around Jeremy's throat. "The hunter is needed to find this cure, is he not?"

Elena shrieked, but was held back by Damon. Stefan held up a hand. "Wait. Think about this for a second, do you really want to deal with the hunter's curse? It could take years for another member of the Five to break it."

"Don't worry," her brother smiled. "I won't kill the boy. He's my insurance."

Rebekah felt her heart plummet. "If I go with you...?"

"I'll let you all go back to finding the cure, as soon as Kol is back. No one has to get hurt," he said. Rebekah knew better than to believe him, apparently Matt did as well.

"That's bullshit," Matt said. "You'll kill him, or have someone else do it for you. If he goes, so do I."

"He'll just kill you too," Caroline said as she appeared in the doorway.

There was a flash of uncertainty in her brother's eyes. Then he was smirking. "Why don't you come with us? Keep me in line and all."

When would he accept she wasn't going to love him back? It was sad, Rebekah wondered if this was why he killed so many of her boyfriends.

"Fine," she spat.

Klaus seemed as surprised as she was at the blonde's agreement. He released Jeremy, who began choking as he struggled to pull air into his hungry lungs.

Elena ran to his side, biting into her wrist and offering it to him. He waved her off, clearing his throat. "I'm fine," he croaked out.

"He's not going with you," she said fiercely.

"Elena," Jeremy said quietly. "It's fine. I'll be back soon, and we'll get you that cure."

She looked uncertainly between Klaus and Rebekah. "Jer—"

"I'll be fine. Caroline won't let anything happen to me."

"Neither will Matt," said Matt.

Jeremy smiled. "Neither will Matt."

She nodded slowly, letting him walk away. Klaus looked at her. "Well, sister? Can you take the time to help our brother?"

Rebekah wanted to argue, but it was becoming more and more obvious he held all the cards. Like always. "Fine. How are we going to do this?"

* * *

After the two Mikaelsons had left, along with her brother and two of her closest friends, Elena slumped onto the couch.

"Guess we aren't getting that cure," Stefan sighed.

"Guess again, little bro," Damon said, flicking a piece of paper.

Elena looked at the sketch. The hunters mark curved across the page. A complete mark. "You had him finish it?"

"We had no idea if it would last," he smirked. "What do you say we get you that cure?"

* * *

Aaron set his duffel bag by the door before going to the map on the table, it had been days since his last locator spell and he wanted to be sure he was still in Mystic Falls. Taking a knife from the kitchenette he cut his palm, letting the blood drip into one of the plastic bowls that had come with the apartment.

Chanting the simple spell he held the bowl over the map, letting the blood spill onto the map. It gathered together and began to roll slowly across the paper, but it didn't stop over Virginia. It kept moving, eventually leaving the map entirely. The spell broke and the blood began to soak into the edge of the paper.

That wasn't possible, Aaron watched the pool of blood as it spread, dripping off the table. _Drip._ It had to be a mistake. _Drip._ He must have done something wrong. _Drip._ An Original couldn't die.

Lurching forward suddenly, he quickly wiped the blood away with the sleeve of his hoodie. He would do it again, and when he got a location he would feel like an idiot for worrying.

But he didn't get a location. Not the second time, or the third, or the fifth.

Aaron fell to the floor, staring absently at the crimson stained linoleum. He wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere.

* * *

Darkness fell as the SUV moved down the highway. Rebekah wasn't convinced Freya was their sister, but she had to admit, her and Nik were remarkably similar. In looks along with mannerisms.

Matt and Caroline, who hadn't spoken to her brother since they left, were in the last row of seats. Freya and Nik in the front, which left her to sit next to the furious hunter.

Gold gleamed in her brother's hand. It was the talisman Kol had worn, even at the ball their wretched mother threw, it was tucked under his collar. When she had questioned him about it he brushed her off.

"You're sure Aaron will help us?" Rebekah said.

"Positive," answered Freya. "He would do anything Kol."

"Why?" Rebekah demanded. "I get that Kol always had that weird connection with witches, but you act as if the kid worshipped him."

"He loved him." Freya looked wistful. "How could he not? After a life of being neglected, a stranger just decides to save him, and take care of him." Her fingers drummed on the wheel. "Kol taught him not to be afraid." She met Rebekah's gaze in the rearview mirror. "He will help us."

 _He better_ , Rebekah thought as she turned her gaze towards the dark window, watching shadow trees blur passed.

* * *

New Orleans, 1821

Kol walked towards the cemetery, the full moon casting an eery light over the Quarter. It had been twenty-five years since Nik had put a dagger in his chest. Twenty-five years... she would only be forty-three. There was still time.

He turned the dagger in his hand. They could still make him pay. Maybe that was why he had the luck of being awoken so soon, perhaps the Norns, or the universe, or God, whoever the hell was watching, had decided his brother's reign of terror should end.

Stopping at the gates of Lafayette Cemetery he waited until he saw the witch approach. He smiled. "Mary-Alice, last I saw you you were just a child.

Her lips pursed in annoyance. "Why did you ask to see me?"

Because she was the only witch who would meet with a vampire. "I'm looking for a witch, Cassandra Sinclair."

Her expression smoothed, irritation being replaced with sympathy. "Cassandra died in childbirth twenty-five years ago. She was a kind woman, her passing was a tragedy."

Kol would have laughed if it weren't for the dizziness that hit him. This he should have expected. Why would he be allowed happiness? He swallowed hard. "What of the child?"

Her eyes hardened, losing any trace of emotion. "Lilith is not welcome in this coven."

"Why would you banish her? The Sinclair's are a powerful blood line, and she is the last." The last stubborn, green eyed, Sinclair witch.

"Cassandra was a good woman, good witch. But Lilith delves in a darkness that can't be allowed to spread to the others, she's an infection that had to be cut out." Mary-Alice shook her head, sending her glossy blonde curls bouncing. "In the eyes of the coven the Sinclair line ended with Cassandra."

Kol's jaw worked as he thought over that information. "Where is she?"

"Don't seek her out. She is powerful, but the price for her help is never worth paying."

That's where she was wrong. He would pay any price twice over if it meant finally getting vengeance for all Klaus had done to him. "Tell me where she is."

Resigned she told him. "In a house at the edge of the Crescents' land, it isn't hard to find."

Kol smiled coldly. "Always a pleasure." He was gone before she could reply.

She was right, it wasn't hard to find. He stood at the edge of the clearing, a small house stood alone, the stone path to the door overgrown, and the roof falling in. He would've thought it abandoned if not for the soft yellow glow of candlelight that poured from the windows.

Walking at a human pace, he paused at the door. It wasn't latched, light seeping out from the edges. Slowly he moved forward, but found no resistance. That was strange. Lilith must have really been practicing the darkest forms of the craft.

Once he crossed the threshold he saw the evidence of her unsavory activities. Scrawled in crimson across the floor, walls, and ceiling were symbols he hadn't seen in centuries. The scent of blood so thick in the air he could taste it.

Footsteps came from the back room, he started that way, but froze when his gaze landed on a particular symbol. Like a cup... No, it couldn't be.

Keeping as silent as possible he went to the half open door that led to the back room. In the room a woman stood over a blood stained altar. She had obviously been beautiful once, with dark blonde curls, and delicate features, but there was a madness in her eyes. The look of a person too far gone, that made a person sick.

Above the altar, painted in blood, was the symbol of Silas. From the looks of it she was preparing for a powerful sacrifice, the kind to start a resurrection.

If Cassandra could see what her daughter had become... Kol flashed forward, and with a sharp snap it was over. Lilith slumped to the floor, her eyes open but empty. Blue eyes, he noted with disappointment, nothing like her mother's emerald green ones.

A small sob got his attention, he turned but only saw a closed door. He turned the handle, pausing before opening the door slowly. And there was the sacrifice, hugging his knees to his chest, his head down so all the was visible was matted dark blond hair.

 _Not your problem_ , he thought. But as he was about to turn away, the boy looked up, and Kol saw his eyes. Emerald green eyes. Cassandra's eyes.

Well, Lilith was somehow a worse mother than Esther. What would happen to him if he left? Starvation maybe. Wolves, there was a chance the wolves would kill him.

"What's your name?" Kol said, perhaps to sharply, he realized as the child flinched away. "I'm not here to hurt you, now tell me your name."

"Aaron," his voice was small, shaking with fear or exhaustion, Kol couldn't quite tell.

"Aaron," Kol held out his hand. "Why don't you come with me. Find you some food, and better clothing." Once he saw the rags Lilith dressed him in Kol realized the shaking might be from the cold.

He shrunk back into the closet. "Mother doesn't like me leaving the house."

No, he imagined she wouldn't, can't have your sacrifice running off or getting mauled by wolves. "Your mother is gone. You can come with me or stay here alone."

Aaron sat there, staring at him for a long moment. Then he stood, on unsteady legs, and followed him quietly passed Lilith's body and out of the house.

* * *

Tremors ran through Aaron's hands. As hard as he tried to stop it he could feel his control slipping, like sand through his fingers. His chest ached as he struggled to breathe.

Shaking fingers ran through his blond hair, smearing cooled blood across his forehead. The rational part of his mind warred with his panic.

He had to find a resurrection spell...

 _Kol was dead._

Lafayette. The workshop in Lafayette would have a spell...

 _He wasn't coming back._

If he was going to fix this he'd need help...

 _The only family he had ever had was dead._

Help from someone who knew what they were doing...

 _Kol would know what to do._

Aaron's fingers knotted in his hair as he hyperventilated. This couldn't happen, not now. He needed his magic stable to perform any serious spells. But it was too late, like brittle plastic his control snapped.

Aaron screamed. The table quaked, the windows burst outward, raining glass onto the street below. The glasses and bottles on his counter shattered, shards flying across the room, stinging his his arm and face.

Exhausted, he fell onto his back, splinters of glass pressing through his shirt into his skin. But he couldn't move, he could barely think. Then, as it always happened after one of his episodes, his eyes rolled back and darkness enveloped him.

* * *

New Orleans, 1821

Instead of taking Aaron back to his brother's home, he took him to his own house. The house he had built for Cassandra and himself.

Kol didn't have anything for the child to wear, he would have to get some clothes made for him in town. Food was more important, Kol had only realized how small Aaron was once he walked into the light.

They say in the dining room, Aaron devouring a slice of bread, as if he was afraid it would be taken from him. It wasn't a proper meal, but it was the only thing in the house.

"You'll have to stay here, until I can find someone to take decent care of you," Kol told him.

Aaron only nodded, tearing off another piece of bread and shoving it into his mouth.

Kol wasn't accustomed to feeling sympathy for other people, but looking at this pathetic little creature he realized he did feel sorry for the child. "Tomorrow we'll get you some real clothing, and more food."

* * *

"Damn it," Aaron growled when he once again failed to break the sealing spell on the crypt. When he was younger Aaron was never allowed in the workshop Kol had in Lafayette. Full of dark objects and grimoires containing pages upon pages of powerful incantations, not the place for a child.

"What're you doing?" Aaron whipped around to see Kaleb leaning against one of the other mausoleums. The shadows cast across his face in the dusk light made him look otherworldly.

"Hardly your concern," said Aaron.

"I couldn't help but notice," Kaleb said. "If you made anymore noise you'd wake the dead."

Wouldn't that solve some problems? Aaron looked back to the sealed door, then considered his faltering magic. Returning his gaze sharply to Kaleb, he narrowed his eyes. "Would you know any unsealing spells?"

"Plenty," said Kaleb, pushing away from the stone wall. "But I'm afraid they'll do you no good. That vault was locked up with blood magic by a Claire witch, it'll take a Claire witch to open it."

Why not? Add it to his list of problems. "I'm guessing I won't be able to find any Claire witches, will I?"

"Not on your own," Kaleb said nonchalantly, with a shrug. "But I could take you to one. If you promised not to tell anyone. I was actually planning to visit her this weekend. Leaving in just a couple hours."

Aaron's eyes flicked around the labyrinth of marble and brick tombs. "What are you doing here then?"

"Have to respect your ancestors," he smirked. "You coming or not?"

"Where are you going?"

"To see Davina Claire, of course. I'm afraid I can't tell you where she is, if that's what you meant. The dead hear things, and they can be bigger pests than you'd think."

Aaron raised an eyebrow. "So much for respect."

"Just because I respect them doesn't mean they aren't a pain in the ass," Kaleb tilted his head as he studied Aaron. "I'm not offering again, you coming or staying?"

Was he going to an unknown location with a complete stranger to find a witch who might not help him? "Yeah," he said grudgingly. "I'm coming."

* * *

The broken windows of the old house stared at Aaron sadly. His childhood home was in ruins, only those who had seen it back when he was young would believe it had been a happy place. Full of light and laughter.

"I don't know if you can hear me," Aaron said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But I'm going to bring you back. You saved me. I won't let you down now that you need me."

Only the wind creaking through the old building answered. It hardly mattered, heard or not, Aaron's promise had been made.

He kneeled, using two fingers to draw an infinity sign in the dirt. "I'll fix this." Standing, he adjusted the pack on his shoulder, and left to meet Kaleb.

He would fix this. He had to.

* * *

Soundtrack:

Scene eleven: Trouble - Cage The Elephant

* * *

A\N: hey guys, I co-wrote this with another user on this site "I love Kol Miakelson". If you like it please leave a review, we would both appreciate it. The quote is Rose Kennedy. Thanks for reading.


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